


The Silvan and the Steward

by Inksinger



Series: A, I Theilin In Edhil Teiliar… [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: GWÎ, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Multi, RAVAGE ME WITH YOUR GWÎ, even i didn't ask for this, i blame my Skype friends, is this even a thing, the shipfic nobody asked for, this all started from a conversation about how there's a poetic elvish word for penis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 18:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4110826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inksinger/pseuds/Inksinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of misadventures chronicling the unlikeliest romance in Elven history since Tom Bombadil and Goldberry, beginning in the early Third Age. Rating may change as the story progresses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Silvan and the Steward

Lindir had acted as a steward of Imladris since its founding, and in general he fancied himself rather capable at his job. It was certainly simple enough: The fair majority of his duties were to simply greet any and all visitors at the doors, announce their arrival to Lord Elrond, and make sure they were all comfortably and reasonably accommodated for the duration of their stay. Hardly a difficult set of tasks to accomplish, even on the odd occasion when their visitors happened to be the royal family of Eryn Galen.

King Thranduil and Prince Legolas only rarely traveled beyond the borders of their kingdom—generally only at the request of Lord Elrond. Nevertheless, they were familiar enough to Lindir that he had little trouble following proper protocol when welcoming them into the valley.

Usually.

 

The day started innocently enough. Having been informed well in advance that the group from Eryn Galen would be arriving that morning, Lindir positioned himself near the doors and busied himself by making absolutely certain everything was in order.

The king, his son, and their escort arrived shortly after the first light of dawn began to streak across the horizon. The Lord and Lady of Imladris were unlikely to be awake and dressed at this hour, and as Erestor was busy preparing the household for the day, it naturally fell to Lindir to greet their guests.

He met them just before the steps, smiling warmly as they dismounted and handed off the reins of their steeds to the waiting grooms.

"King Thranduil. Prince Legolas." Lindir bowed to them before continuing, "On behalf of Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían, I welcome you to Imladris."

At King Thranduil's nod, Lindir continued, "It would be my pleasure to show you to your quarters; my lord and lady are as yet unprepared for the day."

Leading the royal family to their rooms and seeing to it that they were comfortably settled in was easy enough. Too, leading their guards to the quarters they would share with the warriors of Imladris was a simple matter, made even easier with the lack of decorum the guards displayed now that they were free to relax.

Lindir didn't mind; this was a cheerful group, relieved to finally be off the road and have access to beds and hot water again, and despite their rowdiness they remained polite enough not to deliver any hearty slaps to Lindir's shoulders—much unlike the Edain rangers who infrequently sought succor here, and who often displayed goodwill and affection for one another by attempting to see which among them could leave the most livid red marks on the arms and ankles of his fellows.

Strange creatures, the Edain. Very strange.

Someone clapped Lindir's shoulder, startling him from his musings as they said, "Thank you, Lindir. You've been a great help this morning."

Lindir hid his disgruntlement behind a winning smile—curse these wild Silvan Elves, unpredictable as they were—as he turned and answered, "I am honored to hear that, friend."

The Silvan Elf smiled back at him, gray eyes dancing in his handsome face as he said, "I can't imagine why. You seem well aware of your talents. Or are you the sort to relish in the praise you receive from others?"

It took Lindir a moment to realize he was staring. When he did, he hastily shook his head and told the other, "I always appreciate hearing positive commentary on my performance, whether it be as a steward of the household or as a minstrel."

"I see." There was something uncomfortably wicked about the guard's grin—and he had yet to remove his hand from Lindir's shoulder.

Lindir stepped out of reach with a swift, fluid step. "I'll leave you to settle in," he said crispy. "Good day..."

"Feren," the guard supplied. He winked—Valar preserve Lindir, he _actually winked_ —and added, "Perhaps I will get the chance to hear you sing at some point during our stay, and then we shall see which is your greater talent."

He turned and disappeared after his fellows before Lindir could think of anything witty to say in response.

The moment Feren was out of sight, Lindir fled back the way they had come with all the speed that dignity allowed.


End file.
